


Grass Grow

by AvenGrey73



Series: Writings of a Serial Killer [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Death, Experimental writing, Might be disturbing to some, Murder, POV First Person, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvenGrey73/pseuds/AvenGrey73
Summary: Such a beautiful lawn of grass, what kind of fertilizer do you use?
Series: Writings of a Serial Killer [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624447





	Grass Grow

Dark clouds coat the sky, giving the sun no chance to shine its bright face below. No matter. I tilt my face up as drops pelt the ground. Water with the slightest hint of chill runs down my neck, cheeks, and arms. The fresh smell of earth and rain mix in an aroma that speaks of life. I smile. Life will grow after this rain and as I raise my arms up towards the sky, a laugh escapes me. Walking away from the muddy patch of ground, I look forward to the time the first shoots of green appear.

Breaths heavy. Metal sings as the blade of the shovel pierce the earth. A few feet more feet would do, don't you think?

Pure sunlight makes the grass glow, the blades' tips waving in a soft breeze. My smile widens as I watch the grass. It was growing up in patches here and there, though I can tell more were already on their way. That is good, since I took care to fertilize them especially. Bending down, I put a ruler next to the tallest needle of green. It has grown a centimeter! Nodding to myself happily, I rise and stroll away, wondering when it would become a healthy, natural carpet.

Hands firm, muscles tensed, I chuckle. It's too easy. Soft touches of air brush against my arm. They must stop. A twitch and my arm tightens more. Just a few minutes more.

Ah, the blue sky. Can it ever get any bluer? My hands move up slowly as if I'm trying to make a snow angel. But instead of coldness nipping my fingers, soft feathers of verdigris bend under hand. In. Out. My lungs expand until they could no longer be filled. Such life, such green, it smells like the sun that it soaks up every day. I turn and lay flat on my stomach. As the blades tickle my face, I let my mind travel to the earth down below...

Time for bed, my friend. The screams that were filling my ears cut off suddenly as my arm embraced a soft, delicate neck. No need to scream. Yes, don't scream. No, no breathing either. Suddenly, there is a rag doll in my arms and I lower to the ground with the weight. I look down, hearing laughter still. Oh, wait, that's me. No matter. My hands grasp rough wood and I hurl the shovel blade into the ground. My breaths fill my ears as the perfume of soil fills my nostrils. One more foot. I'm done. I turn around and set the shovel down reverently. Then sliding my hands under the doll, I whisper, “Goodnight, my friend.” Drop, thud. Shovel back in hand, dirt sifts down as I scoop the earth and put it back in its rightful place. The paleness down there is almost covered. Good. Breath. Sift, sift. Another scoop and all I see is dark, rich earth. Time to plant. Drops of life patter down, embedding itself as I watch with eyes shining. Done. I can't wait to see the grass grow!

Turn around, sky again. Fingers close slowly around verdure. Such life, such delicate green. And it grows, grows, grows.

**Author's Note:**

> Since I wrote this and the others ages ago, I haven't look it over for grammatical mistakes. Please let me know if you see any so I can fix them!


End file.
